A Guide to Being Just Friends(6)

“Dates not going well?” Grace asked. She was different than Everly but every bit as lovely. Both of his brothers were damn lucky men.

“I’m taking a break.” He was in no rush. Not wanting to talk about it, he looked down at his phone.

Wes wanted a consistent, predictable dating life. He wanted to meet a woman who enjoyed an evening out, or in, shared the same interests, and wanted her own life, independent of his.

He wanted the like without the downfall of love. It looked and felt right for his brothers but Wes had worked hard to shield them from the realities of where love could lead. As the oldest, he’d seen and understood the nastiness of their parents’ divorce up close. He’d always been more attuned to tension—his father condescendingly referred to Wes as the “sensitive” child—and when his parents would start, he made it his job to distract them. They’d go play outside, find hiding spots in their enormous home, play video games, or just huddle together in one of their rooms. Wes didn’t want them to feel sick to their stomachs every day like he had in the end.

Looking around the room, listening to them laugh and joke, he realized he’d done it. He’d protected them. They weren’t close with their father but they didn’t seem to remember the fighting or the anger.

“What are you taking a break from?” Noah asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Wes’s skin heated like it was on fire when he thought of last week’s disaster. Before he could respond, his brother continued.

“Getting a life?” Noah asked.

Grace smacked his arm again. “Stop it. Be nice.”

Noah grinned, unrepentant. “Honey, you keep doing that, I’m going to start liking it.” He leaned in to kiss her, making her laugh.

“Knock it off, Noah. Let’s get to work,” Chris said.

His brother shot Wes a “you okay?” look. Wes nodded. He was fine and he had a life. A perfectly fine one.

“I have a surprise,” Chris said, glancing at Everly as he opened the flat box about the size of a yearbook. He pulled a plaque out of tissue paper and turned it to face the table so they could all see.

Wes smiled, pride and happiness pushing aside his worries. The words engraved on the mahogany-colored plaque made his throat feel thick.

SQUISHY CAT INDUSTRIES

THREE BROTHERS, ONE GOAL:

CREATING A BETTER WORLD, ONE BUSINESS AT A TIME

“For when we finally get an office of our own,” Chris said, looking both of his brothers in the eye.

“It’s perfect,” Wes said. The last line was what distinguished them from their father. It wasn’t all about money. It was about leaving behind something that mattered, doing something that mattered.

“It’s awesome, bro,” Noah said, no hint of joking on his face.

“Speaking of offices,” Wes said, pulling up his notes on his iPad. He wanted them to take a closer look at the spaces near his apartment, above shops like Baked. It was a great location and not just because he lived down the street. Before he could continue, Jane knocked on the door, letting them know lunch was there. Looking toward the door, Wes’s heart did a painful shimmy all the way to his gut.

What. The. Actual. Hell? Hayden … no, Hailey was standing right next to Jane with a box in her arms. The reddish-brown hair he’d been admiring last week while she waited at the café counter was pulled up into one of those messy but sexy buns.

She was their delivery girl? Jesus. His hands went so clammy he didn’t trust himself to take a drink of his water even though his mouth went desert dry. He still didn’t know for sure if she’d lied. He’d had some bad matchups through the apps he tried but that one topped them all. Either she was who she said she was and he’d looked like an idiot, or he was right, she’d seen him and lied about who she was, and, well, he was an idiot.

“Sorry it took so long,” she said in that pretty voice he remembered.

Unfortunately, he’d replayed the moment about two dozen times in his head. The way her hair looked, her smile, the cadence of her voice and the sympathy in her gaze when she realized he was waiting for a date.

She stepped into the room and he had the satisfaction of watching her nearly trip over her own surprise. Their gazes locked and a strange zap—like he’d stuck his finger in a socket—whipped up his arms, over his back. Damn. He’d felt a hint of this when he saw her last week, when he approached her, but it had faded quickly in the confusion. He figured he’d imagined it by overthinking things this week. Apparently not.

He had little frame of reference but thought this was the feeling that put hearts in his brothers’ eyes. No thank you. He shut that down, forced himself to remember how nervous he’d felt approaching her when she seemed no closer to coming to his table last week. He wanted a steady, reliable woman he could enjoy time with. He didn’t want to feel flustered and short of breath when he looked at someone.

“Oh.” She huffed out a hard, noticeable breath, making him wonder if she felt the same tightness in her chest that he felt now.

What would he say? He opened his mouth to say something just as Everly moved back from the table, stood up.

“Hi, Hailey. How are you?”

Hay-what? Oh, shit. She really was telling the truth. Dread filled his stomach. He was more than an idiot. He was a jerk.

“Hi,” Hailey said, her voice strained. She moved, nearly fumbled the box, and then set it on the table.